Redemption
by Coming of Crepuscule
Summary: In his moment of greatest transgression, Itachi finds salvation.


**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately, I do not own Naruto, or Itachi would still be alive.

**Summary: **A (rather long) one-shot centering around Itachi's first (and perhaps only) love before he massacres his clan.

**Warning: **This is an ItachiXOC, so if you don't like original characters, I suggest you turn tail and run. Please note that this contains **SPOILERS** up to about chapter 402. There is some violence that could be considered graphic, I guess, but I didn't think it was enough to warrant a rating of 'M'

Created: 12/21/08

Published: 12/26/08

Modified: 12/26/08

Word Count: 5389

Beta-ed by: BlackElement7

* * *

Redemption

Itachi is seven years old when he receives his first declaration of love. At first, he is speechless, obsidian eyes widening almost imperceptibly. It is graduation day at the Ninja Academy, and he has already been assigned to a genin team. The small girl standing expectantly in front of him is seven, too, but she has not graduated yet, and she probably won't for another five years, like any other _normal_ child.

The girl has short black hair that curls inward slightly and stops just past her chin. Her eyes are much too large for her face and far too expressive for a shinobi. They gleam with determination and a strange emotion that Itachi can't quite name. It is similar to the soft expressions his mother gives him sometimes but still not quite the same. He can tell just by her physical features that she is an Uchiha, although he's never seen her at the compound. She probably belongs to one of the distant branch families.

She is wearing a dark blue dress with capped sleeves that stops just below the knees and black leggings that end at the bottom of her calves. Tied around her head is a matching blue ribbon to hold back her bangs, which only brings more attention to her overly large eyes, and resting in the hollow of her neck is a silver necklace with three circular charms, each spaced one inch apart.

If he were any other boy, he would most likely wrinkle his nose, make some absurd reference to "cooties," then promptly run away, but Itachi is not any other boy, and he has been brought up well. Even at his young age, he is always polite. Blinking slowly, he schools his features into a mask of indifference and eyes the girl with a level gaze.

"I'm grateful for your interest, but I cannot return your feelings. I'm sorry."

He expects her to be upset, to cry, to yell in his face. She does nothing of the sort. His eyes have never left her own, and he can see that firm determination from before harden and grow until it threatens to consume him in its intensity. He wants to step back and turn away, but he finds he cannot. They stay like that for a few moments more, staring silently at each other in mutual contemplation.

Suddenly, the dark-haired girl tilts her head to the side and a small, enigmatic smile flirts at the corner of her lips. "I know," she says.

Despite himself, Itachi can't help but let a little confusion wrinkle his brow, as he looks at her, perplexed. "Then why…?"

Her smile widens into a full-out grin now. From the other side of the academy, she can hear her friends calling out to her. She must get back to class soon before sensei realizes she's missing. Returning her attention to Itachi, she tells him this and begins to turn back to the training fields where her class is practicing their kunai skills. She pauses, though, before taking even one step and furrows her eyebrows as if she's forgotten something important. Once she remembers, her face lights up, and she looks back to her professed love interest.

"My name is Mikomi. Uchiha Mikomi," she informs the confused prodigy.

He says nothing in return, but she doesn't seem to mind and begins running across the gravel to her friends. He can see the telltale Uchiha fan emblazoned on the back of her dress as she moves farther and farther away.

When she is finally out of sight, he shakes his head and recommences his walk to the graduation ceremony. He will be late, and his otosan will not be happy, but Itachi can't find it in himself to care as he tries to push images of enigmatic smiles and too-large eyes from his mind. After all, he will probably never see the girl again now that he's graduated from the academy. It would not do to dwell on such trivial matters like strange little girls and useless declarations of love.

* * *

By the time Itachi rises with the sun the next day, he has already dismissed any thoughts of the strange little girl and her even stranger confession. He begins his day normally, dressing in his customary high-collared, black shirt and long black pants. The only difference is the new Konoha forehead protector, which he ties tightly around his head, so that it is partially hidden by his bangs.

When he reaches the kitchen, his mother is already done cooking and lays out bowls of boiled rice, miso soup, nori, tofu, grilled fish, and tamagoyaki. Taking his place at the table, Itachi folds his legs beneath him to kneel on the tatami mats. A moment later, his father enters the room and sits across the table from his eldest son. The Uchiha matriarch soon joins them, Itachi's baby brother, Sasuke, cradled in her arms.

When Sasuke was born, Itachi was leery of having a baby around. He thought Sasuke would be a distraction and a nuisance. After a few days, however, he became fascinated, captivated by this little bundle of life that was so dependent on others. Itachi wanted his little brother to be able to depend on him. Besides, he makes their okasan happy. She hardly ever smiles anymore. Her eyes seem to be forever laced with worry. Worry for her son. Worry for Itachi.

Once he finishes his breakfast, Itachi excuses himself from the table. He is to meet with his new genin team for the first time today, and he does not wish to be late. Before he is completely out the kitchen door, he hears his mother wish him good luck. He knows it should not mean so much to him, but a warm feeling spreads in his gut anyway.

Slipping on his sandals, he exits the house and makes his way to the compound's gates. As he nears the wooden doors, he sees the girl from yesterday leaning with her back against one of the posts. She is looking down at her feet and has not spotted him yet. Stifling his surprise, he walks towards her and stops when he's five feet away.

Startled by his sudden proximity, her head shoots up, and her eyes are wide. Her mouth is hanging open slightly, and Itachi decides that it is not a very appealing expression.

"What are you doing here?" he asks after another round of silent staring.

The girl - Mikomi, if he recalls correctly - straightens up then and shoots him one of her little enigmatic smiles. "Waiting for you."

He arches a brow as if prompting her to continue, but to his utter consternation, he quickly realizes she is not going to elaborate. "Why?" he finally inquires blankly. In the confines of his mind, he's telling himself that her reasons don't matter, but he can't deny the hint of curiosity that finds its way into his voice.

In an infuriating gesture, she shrugs her shoulders and begins walking out of the compound instead. When he doesn't follow, she pauses and turns back to face him. "Well, are you coming or not? You're supposed to meet with your genin team soon, aren't you?"

For some reason, he is not surprised that she knows this and forces his feet into action, taking one step, then another and another after that. When he is finally upon her, she begins walking, too, until they are moving side-by-side at a leisurely pace. Neither one is speaking, but Itachi doesn't mind. He finds the silence comfortable and not awkward like he would have thought.

Itachi has never really been in much contact with other kids his age. Before entering the academy, his father and the clan elders pushed him to train for hours a day with little reprieve. This didn't allow much time for friends, and even after he entered the academy last year, his unparalleled intelligence and ability only drove the other kids away. They were jealous or fearful and wanted nothing to do with him.

This girl is different, though. She does not shy away or throw insults from a safe distance. In fact, she seems very serene and content to just walk by his side. Itachi muses that it is somewhat intriguing, though he will never admit it out loud.

After several minutes of walking in companionable silence, they must part. Mikomi must head to the academy while Itachi must meet his team by the bridge on the other side of town. Before they go their separate ways, the girl shrugs her pack off her shoulders and reaches into it to pull something out. Her back is turned, so he can't see what she's doing, but when she turns around, he is astonished to see her blushing.

Almost hesitantly, she lifts up her hand to give him whatever she retrieved. He looks down; it is a bento box. For a moment, he contemplates refusing it, but when he looks up at her again, she has that fierce determination smoldering like coal in her eyes. Holding her gaze, he takes the box and nods his thanks. She tilts her head and smiles before picking up her pack and dashing happily away. Once again, he watches her back until she turns a corner and disappears.

When he reaches the meeting place, he is dismayed to see that he is the last one to arrive. However, he takes a moment to glance over his new teammates. He does not recognize the sensei or the female genin, but the last one is an Uchiha, a cousin, in fact. He has seen him around the compound a couple times or at some of the clan meetings, though they've never met in person. His name is Shisui.

After short introductions, they start training immediately and don't stop until the sun is high over their heads, signaling that it is time for lunch. Itachi sits with his back against a tree and takes out the bento box Mikomi gave him earlier in the morning. When he opens it, he is pleasantly surprised to find that it actually looks halfway decent. Upon taking a bite of an onigiri, however, the only thing that keeps him from spitting it out are his heavily ingrained manners and sheer willpower. Grimacing, he holds his breath and chews only twice before swallowing it and forcing the rest down his esophagus with a large gulp of water.

Shisui is not quite so contained when he comes to sit beside Itachi and steals a piece of sushi. The color drains visibly from his cheeks, and then he is spraying bits of fish and rice all over the grass in front of him. For the first time in perhaps many years, Itachi chuckles lightly under his breath, then he continues to eat his meal until there is not one grain of rice left.

The next day Mikomi is waiting for him by the gates. He does not question it this time, and they walk together again in companionable silence. When they reach the part where their paths diverge, she hands him another bento box. He takes it willingly and without hesitation.

She has another one of her strange smiles on her lips when she asks, "How did you like the bento yesterday?"

Not one to lie, Itachi tells her the truth. "It was horrible."

Like when he rejected her feelings, she does not cry or yell in self-righteous indignation, and he doesn't expect her to. She merely grins wider and picks up her pack. "I know," she says, "but I'll definitely get better. Someday, I'll make you the best bento ever. Just for you."

He's only known her for two days, but somehow, he doesn't doubt it.

* * *

When Itachi is ten, he takes the chuunin exams and does remarkably well. His otosan and the clan are very proud, but he doesn't care for their approval. His okasan only worries they are pushing him too hard. Already, lines of stress are beginning to etch themselves down his young face from the corner of his eyes. Now he will be going on more missions, harder missions, longer missions, and the stress will only increase; the work can only become more difficult.

To congratulate him on his promotion, Mikomi takes Itachi on a picnic. In three years, it is the first time they have met to do something other than their morning walks together. True to her word, her cooking eventually got better. However, Shisui was never brave enough to try it again. This is fine by Itachi, though. He doesn't like to share.

During one training session, Shisui makes an offhand remark, asking Itachi if he ever gets sick of bento boxes, and isn't he a little old now for his mom to keep making them for him? Imagine his surprise when Itachi tells him that his mom stopped making him bento boxes after he graduated from the academy.

Much to Itachi's consternation, he spends the next several months trying to convince his inquisitive cousin that no, he does _not_ have a secret girlfriend. He doesn't _think_ he does, at least. Does he? After all, he's never given much thought to his relationship with Mikomi before. What is she to him? An acquaintance? A friend? For some reason, he doesn't really think so.

* * *

On his first mission as a chuunin, Itachi makes his first kill. He feels more than hears the slicing of flesh and tissue as his kunai cuts across an enemy's throat. Warm, red blood sprays at his face and coats his hand, soaking through the front of his green chuunin vest. The body crumples lifelessly at his feet and more of the red substance seeps out to water the ground. It is sickening and leaves him clammy and numb, like thawing after sitting out in the snow for hours.

His sensei awkwardly tries to comfort him, saying it is part of being a ninja; kill or be killed. Despite Itachi's youth, the jounin instructor is weary - fearful almost - of his student, who he can't quite understand, and hesitates to lay a hand on the prodigy's shoulder. His words and actions are meant to sooth, but Itachi hardly even notices. His blood is still thrumming deafeningly in his ears in time with his accelerated heartbeat as the last of his adrenaline dies down. He is not proud, and the bloody kunai slips from his fingertips to stick straight up in the mud.

When his team finally returns to Konoha, Itachi does not immediately run back to the familiar walls of his home. Instead, he seeks out Mikomi. It is late at night, and he doesn't know where she lives, but he follows the slight tingle of her chakra signature. Before long, he finds himself standing in front of the window of a small, worn-looking house on the fringes of the compound.

With the skill of a master thief, he deftly unlocks the window and climbs through the small opening almost soundlessly. The floorboards moan quietly beneath his weight as he crosses the room to stand at the edge of a low, twin-sized bed. The covers are pulled up almost to Mikomi's chin, and her hair is splayed out behind her like a flag in the wind.

It is longer now than when they first met, stopping just past her shoulders. Itachi does nothing but watch her sleep, having no intention of waking her up. Her soft, even breathing lulls him into a state of momentary comfort as he stands beside her, the moonlight from the window illuminating her facial features. In the past few years, she has changed a lot. Her eyes are no longer too big for her face, and her cheeks are thinner, becoming more pronounced as she loses her baby fat.

In the dim lighting, her skin seems to glow, and she resembles a cherubim, pure and innocent. Suddenly, Itachi is hit by how very soiled he has become, and he can barely stand it. It is not just because of his recent kill but everything leading up to that point: his struggle to become the best, his resentment for his father and his clan for egging him on, and his mother for not trying harder to stop them or himself.

He is nothing but a boy floundering in an ocean of his own darkness, reaching for that light at the surface, and he knows that he shouldn't. He shouldn't bask in the comforting light of Mikomi's presence because people like her can only be irreparably tainted by the likes of people like him. He knows this, and yet he does nothing to stop it; he can't. Even now, he is reaching towards her, letting his hand caress her cheek. She stirs and leans into his soft touch, one of her hands coming up to rest atop his own. Then she is awake, her lashes fluttering as she fights off the drugging effects of sleep.

"Itachi," she queries as her eyes adjust to the darkness. "Wha…what are you doing here?"

He doesn't say anything because he doesn't know the answer himself. What _is_ he doing here? Slowly, his hand slips from her cheek, and he takes a step back, not meeting her eyes. He hears her gasp, and his head snaps up to look at her. Her eyes are widened in muted horror as she finally catches sight of his bloodied appearance.

"Oh my…what happened! You're covered in blood!" She moves to get up from the bed, trying to untangle herself from the thin sheets.

Itachi is at her side instantly, pushing down lightly on her shoulder to get her to lie back down. "Relax. It's not mine," he assures her.

Her movements still as the words register in her head, and he can see her visibly sag in relief. "Oh…" she mumbles.

They stay like that for a few moments, and then Itachi feels her small, delicate hand grab his own as she tries to pull him down to sit on her bed. He lets her move him, too weary to resist, and stares silently out her window. Mikomi is wearing her enigmatic smile again, but there is still a hint of worry hiding in her expression. He has never sought her out before, but she knows better than to ask. He'll tell her when he's ready. By the time he finally speaks, she is already beginning to nod off again, but at the sound of his soft voice, she is immediately alert.

"I killed-" he pauses here to swallow. "I killed my first person today."

The silence that follows his words is suffocating, like breathing into a plastic bag. When she doesn't reply, Itachi clenches his hands into white-knuckled fists. He knew she would be disgusted. He expected it, so why does he feel so disappointed? He is about to get up and leave when he feels thin arms wrap around his waist and hot breath on his back as Mikomi kneels behind him and hugs him tight. Itachi stiffens, but as her comforting warmth seeps into his cold, clammy skin through his clothes, he can't help but let himself sag in her arms, vulnerable and defeated.

He doesn't know how long she held him, but by the time he leaves her, the sun is already peeking out over the horizon. And this is how it is. After every mission where he takes a life, Itachi seeks Mikomi out. He only comes to her at night, but she always welcomes him into her arms. They never speak during these times, but they both know no words are needed.

* * *

When Itachi turns twelve, he is inducted into Anbu, and Mikomi graduates from the academy. She is assigned to a genin team; he is assigned more missions. Although their daily lives become more hectic, the nights Itachi finds solace in her arms become more frequent.

His little brother Sasuke is six now, and he's about to enter the academy. Itachi can see that he's trying very hard to catch up to his niisan and win the approval of their father, who otherwise ignores him. Itachi threatens his otosan that, if he doesn't attend Sasuke's induction ceremony, he will not go on a mission. His father relents, and Sasuke is happy.

For a time, everything goes smoothly, or at least as smoothly as any prodigy can hope. Itachi moves quickly through the Anbu ranks, and by the time he is thirteen, he has become the youngest Anbu captain in the history of Konoha. Itachi leaves on his missions, and when he comes back, Mikomi is always there, waiting for him with open arms. Fate, however, is hardly ever kind, and this peaceful equilibrium does not last.

* * *

The moment Itachi steps into the Hokage's office, he knows something is terribly, terribly wrong. He can taste it on his tongue like stale water, and it sets his instincts on overdrive. They are saying _run, run, run…_ He does not listen to his instincts, though, and faces the Hokage and village elders standing behind the village head with a blank expression. Sarutobi rests his elbows on the desk and brings the tips of his fingers together. They are wrinkly and weathered by age, and he decides that he is getting far too old for this job.

"Uchiha, Itachi," he addresses the young man - no, boy - standing erectly before him. "Do you love your village?"

There is no hesitation when Itachi answers. "Yes."

"Would you sacrifice your own wellbeing for the sake of the village?" the old hokage continues.

"Yes."

"The wellbeing of your clan?"

"Yes."

"Of your family?"

"…Yes."

"Very well," Sarutobi sighs with the weight of his next request. "Then Uchiha, Itachi, I have a mission for you…"

When he leaves the Hokage's tower, Itachi is cold, colder even than the time he made his first kill, which seems so long ago. That night, Itachi sinks into Mikomi's comforting embrace and doesn't leave until the sun is high in the sky.

* * *

He knows he cannot do it alone. Even with all his advanced skills, he needs help. So Itachi seeks out the only person he knows is able and willing to help him in his gruesome task: Madara Uchiha. He finds the founder of his clan in a swamp near Kirigakure and strikes a deal. Itachi will help Madara obliterate the Uchiha, who he so despises, if he will teach Itachi his techniques and how to better utilize his sharingan. Madara agrees, and begins to teach his young descendant the secrets of their powerful doujutsu.

A few months pass by in this manner, and Itachi can tell it's getting close to that time. He refuses to train with Sasuke now. He would be unable to keep the guilt from his eyes. Mikomi can tell something is wrong, as well, but she says nothing. Itachi is barely able to stand being around her either when he knows he'll have to snuff out that light in which he finds so much comfort.

Not for the first time, he wonders how it has come to this, if things could have been different. He _wants_ things to be different; he wants it so damn bad. Maybe if he had paid more attention to the movements of his clan, he could have caught it in time. He could have stopped it. He could have…but he didn't. Now it's too late, and there's nothing else he can do.

It's almost time now, and the date is set. Madara gives him one last piece of advice: to look under the floorboards of the old Uchiha shrine. Itachi does not know what he will find there, but he goes anyway, stealing away during the night under the guise of an Anbu mission.

When Itachi reaches the shrine, he pries the floorboards loose and finds a scroll hidden underneath. What he reads is fascinating and disturbing all at once, and if he were a better man or perhaps a worse man (it's hard to tell in this case) he would put it back, forget it ever existed, and call the whole mission off. But he is not a better man or a worse man or whichever way you wish to see it. He is only a thirteen year old boy trapped between love for his family and loyalty to his village, and in the end, the village must come first.

Once he is done reading and puts the scroll back in its rightful place beneath the floor, he leaves the shrine and begins to make his way back to the heart of the compound. He is walking along the shore of the lake when he feels it. It is masterfully cloaked, but he still senses it; a chakra signature.

"I know you're there. Come out," his command is short and terse as he tenses for battle. From the underbrush some meters from the lake, a tall, dark figure emerges. Itachi's eyes bleed crimson as he turns on the sharingan. The figure steps forward and moonlight catches his face, "Shisui," Itachi intones incredulously.

"Hey, Itachi, out for a nighttime stroll? I thought you were on an Anbu mission, or did you just get back?" His cousin smiles lightly, as always, but Itachi is not fooled.

"Why were you masking your chakra just now?" Itachi asks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What do you mean? I wasn't masking my chakra. You must have been so absorbed in your thoughts you didn't notice me coming up behind you," his cousin explains. "You should really pay more attention. I know we're in the relative safety of the compound but still."

When Itachi levels him with a hard glare, Shisui finally drops the act. "Ok, ok, I was trailing you, alright?"

"Why?"

"Oh come on, Itachi! You've been acting really strange lately! You hardly ever talk to anyone in the clan anymore, you go on more 'missions' than humanly possible, and you never go to clan meetings like tonight. The clan elders are getting suspicious, Itachi, so whatever it is you've been doing, I suggest you stop."

Silence reigns after his speech. The only sounds are the chirp of crickets' wings and the croak of frogs. As the cousins exchange glares, the contents of the scroll and its instructions surface in Itachi's mind. In the span of a few seconds, he justifies that now is as good a time as any to get it over with.

Shisui is caught off guard when Itachi flickers behind him and directs a kick at his back. That one moment is all Itachi needs, though, and before his cousin can react, he is being held under water with an iron grip around his throat. Shisui thrashes violently, but Itachi is unrelenting, and after a few minutes, the thrashing dies down until it stops completely.

Itachi's eyes are closed as he lets go of his best friend's neck and stands up, His clothes are soaked, but he doesn't notice. When his eyes open again, they are the red pin wheels of the mangekyou sharingan. That night, when he goes to Mikomi, she feels him tremble in her arms.

* * *

The long awaited day finally comes, and when Itachi wakes up, he doesn't know if he's ready. He supposes it doesn't really matter because he will have to do it whether he's ready or not. Slipping on his Anbu uniform, he leaves the village and meets up with Madara at the designated location. His face is a Noh mask, void of any emotion, but inside he can feel a part of him shriveling up like a rose without water. He wants to finish the job and thrust a kunai into his chest, but he can't die quite yet.

The setting sun is painting the sky in bloody hues, and Itachi can only think how fitting it all is. When the last rays of light die out on the horizon, he knows it is time. The slaughter begins.

Itachi doesn't keep track as countless bodies fall at his feet under the onslaught of his katana. Everywhere he steps, there are puddles of blood sinking into the ground and into the soles of his sandaled feet. Women, children, cousins, aunts, uncles. None of them are any match for his blade, and he tries his hardest to put blank faces on all his victims, determined to see them as just another enemy shinobi.

Before he knows it, he is standing before the door of a small, worn-looking house on the fringes of the compound. There is only one chakra signature inside, and he doesn't have to see to know who it is. Tightening his grip on his katana, he takes the three steps up to the door and kicks it in. As he moves through the house to her room, his steps fall heavily on the wooden flooring, the sound seemingly amplified by the deafening silence of the compound. She is the last one before he must move on to his immediate family, and he pauses briefly outside her door, trying to steel his resolve.

She is waiting for him just on the other side; he can sense her. She is crouched in a fighting stance, and he thinks this is good. He couldn't bear it if she just accepted her death. When he slides open the shoji screen, she charges at him with everything she has, but she is still only a genin, and it's not nearly enough. He defeats her in three quick moves, and now she is pinned to the wall with his blade through her chest.

Her hand covers his on the hilt of the katana, and her breath comes in short, labored gasps. He tries to keep his expression schooled into a look of indifference, but now she is tilting her head and giving him that infuriating, enigmatic smile. His mask cracks, and the emotions come tumbling out like water from a cupped palm. His pain, his sorrow, his anger, his regret; all of it is on display for her to see, but she doesn't look at him with hatred or pity. He recalls the first day they met when she looked at him with a strange expression that he couldn't quite place. He knows what it is now. He can see it in her too-expressive eyes. There is only love, all the love she has held for him for the past six years.

Idly, he notes the way her hand comes up to grasp the silver chain around her neck that he's never seen her without. With a sharp tug, she pulls it off and holds it up to him, silently asking him to take it. "Mikomi," he groans softly, unable to look away from that fiery determination still burning in her eyes even as a single tear drips down her cheek like wax down a candle.

"I-Itachi, please." He can tell it is taking all of her strength just to say these words, and he acquiesces, taking the jewelry from her hand to clench it in his white-knuckled fist.

Her eyes are dimming now, and with a jolt, he realizes that she only has a few minutes left, if that. She coughs, and blood comes spilling out of the corners of her mouth. A lump forms in his throat, and he leans his forehead against hers.

"I'm sorry," he finally chokes out. "I'm so sorry."

He is overcome with an urge then, so strong he can't ignore it. He closes the distance between them, pressing his mouth against hers in a gentle kiss. Her lips are soft and pliant, and he wonders why he's never done this before. He can taste blood, _her_ blood, in his mouth, but he doesn't seem to care, and after a moment, he pulls away. She is staring straight into his crimson gaze, but her eyes are dull and dim, and he doubts she can even see him through the pain. He feels her hand come up to cup his cheek. Now she is the one that is cold and clammy, and he can't help but chuckle darkly at the irony of the situation. She leans forward then, and whispers so softly he has to strain to hear.

"I forgive you."

**A/N:** First of all, I think it would be really sweet if you checked out my online writing portfolio. There's a link to it on my profile. It has more of my writing and not just fan fiction, if you're interested. Next, I wrote this story _all_ in one day, and it took a long freakin' time. This whole fic was kind of a giant experiment for me. I actually haven't written any fan fiction for a few years, but recently, this plot has been niggling insistently at the back of my mind yelling, "write me, write me!" Please keep in mind that I've never written a one-shot before (I usually write chapter stories), and I've never tried writing a story in present tense like I did with this one, so I'm not sure if that worked out all that well. Since I experimented with this story so much, I would really appreciate some _constructive_ criticism. Excellent, thank ya kindly.


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